


Listen

by Slenders1ckn3ss



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenders1ckn3ss/pseuds/Slenders1ckn3ss
Summary: Work to do, work to be done, and work already completed.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Listen

Ghouls, by their nature, were chaotic beings. Like roaches - or perhaps like her dear child's rats - they could not be restricted from any area they adamantly wished to inhabit. Therefore Sister Imperator was annoyed but not surprised when a Ghoul had slid in behind her as she had entered her office. He had scrambled lizard-like up the eight-foot bookcase and was now sitting on a corner of it, perched like a gargoyle, dark eyes staring down at her from behind his mask. 

It would have been comical, had she been in a mood to be entertained. The way he leaned forward looked as though he was going to fall over at any time. Both hands and both feet tied into the same tiny corner, thin tail wrapped around all four limbs. The tip of it was tucked rather subtly under the Ghoul; Imperator could not identify him without seeing it. She hadn't thought to look when he came in, either. She decided she wouldn't have cared anyway, and started into her work.

As she shuffled through her papers, she imagined the Ghoul tipping forward, hog-tying himself with his tail. Unable to catch himself, he would land flat on his face. From that height? To the stone floor? Broken teeth, bloody nose, busted lip, fractured bone...

She looked up at him, hiding a wry, satisfied grin behind a practiced and pleasant smile. If the Ghoul had even seen her at all, he gave no reaction. 

Well. Maybe he was just one of the  _ stupid _ ones. 

She continued her work. To her left, behind her, was a fireplace, burning constantly to stave off the chill of the Ministry's stone walls. The fire chewed merrily at the wood, giving the only sound except Imperator's pen scratches. The light of it was not ample for doing paperwork, so she had a small desk lamp as well. The desk itself was a heavy mahogany piece, a gift from the third Emeritus to get in her good graces. Not that it did  _ him  _ any good. The desk was as reclaimed, marred, and used as  _ he  _ had been, and Imperator was fairly sure he'd bought it at a yard sale. 

Still. Waste not, want not. 

She did not notice that the room had begun to grow dim until the desk lamp suddenly surged. The light quickly swelled to blinding before dwindling to an ember, the metal filament burning golden before giving a soft snap and extinguishing completely. Only then did she realize she was in complete and total darkness. 

Sister Imperator had always been close to the darkness. Closer, perhaps, than anyone else in the Ministry. She knew how dangerous it could be. It was a precipice - one where her heels were the only thing keeping her on solid ground, her faith and determination keeping her afloat above the void. One wrong move and she would be swallowed whole, with nothing remaining except a memory. 

It was this darkness that she felt now, oppressive, silent, and heavy at her back. The chill that crept along her spine reminded her of a shadow on an autumn day, a distinction between the warmth of the sun and the cold of its absence. A foretelling of the winter, and the death that would follow it. 

Words, soft as down and icy as snowflakes, brushed along the back of her neck, against her ear, sending the avalanche of gooseflesh down her arms and spine. 

" _ He. Knows _ ." 

She tensed, drew in a sharp breath. Chill air filled her lungs, remained there as she held it in surprise and fear. Her eyes went wide in the darkness, taking in nothing but shadow. 

He knows. 

He  _ knows _ .

She heard the presence draw another breath in and release it. This one was warmer - or perhaps she was colder now. Her hands, even trembling, felt like stone. Her body refused to move. And in the darkness she began to see them, wriggling shadows slithering toward her, like eels, like worms, like snakes, with open mouths and shimmering obsidian teeth-

And without even a blink, it was over. Dark faded into light, silence peeled back as the crackling of her fireplace resumed behind her left shoulder. The heavy presence had disappeared, unburdening her shoulders, and she let out the air in her lungs in a dragon-like puff of vapor. 

On her papers, her pen had left a widening pool of black ink. She hurriedly pulled it back; no good - her desk had been stained. How hard had she been pressing? How  _ long _ ?

She suddenly felt raw, exposed. Hurriedly, she glanced up at her bookshelf, tongue eager with a silencing word to the owlish Ghoul perched up there. 

He -  _ it _ \- was gone. 

Imperator looked at her office door. The heavy wood, purposely-rusted hinges, would've made a noise if the Ghoul had left through it. The tokens on her walls, painted in blood and ash and hidden behind paintings, prohibited their teleportation. And yet... 

Imperator pulled the lapels of her suit jacket tighter around her shoulders. The cold had left, the heaviness. But her wariness remained. The darkness was still there, invisible and omnipresent. She felt one inch closer to the edge.

_ He knew.  _

And now she would know his wrath.


End file.
